


cut through the clouds, break the ceiling

by apexpredator (lightofthestars)



Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, starts near the end of canon and then goes from there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofthestars/pseuds/apexpredator
Summary: In the aftermath, Regina has a lot of growing to do.
Relationships: Regina George & Cady Heron, Regina George & Janis Sarkisian, Regina George/Cady Heron, minor cady/aaron though i don't think it'd be that much of a spoiler to say they break up eventually
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	1. sundry days in the hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mild descriptions of injuries, etc, just in case.

Regina wakes to the taste of iron in her mouth.

There’s a searing pain down her side, curling around her midriff and squeezing like a vise. Her lungs feel like they’re on fire. She tries to take a breath, but it comes out more like a wheeze, and it’s a herculean effort to force her eyes open.

What she sees is two big faces looking wide-eyed back at her. It takes her a moment to push past the throb of her head and the agony that is the rest of her body to recognize that one is her own mother staring at her, and the other is Gretchen.

Everything feels like it’s happening in muffled slow motion, like she’s underwater, drowning in a muddy river. She can see Gretchen’s lips moving, but can’t quite hear the words. She can see her mom reach a hand towards her, but the motion is blurred and not quite right. It’s only a second or five later that Regina feels her eyelids drooping, and a warm static overtakes her thoughts as she slips, mercifully, into darkness.

* * *

The first time she wakes up after the accident, she hears a soft gasp from her side. She can’t turn her head, somehow, to see who it is. But fortunately, Sabrina George’s face is in her field of vision an instant later. Regina is vaguely surprised to see tears in her eyes.

“Hi, honey,” her mom says, smiling, relief softening the worry lines on her face.

“Hi, mom,” Regina manages, internally cringing when her voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.

“How are you feeling?”

It’s a stupid question to ask someone who just got hit by a bus… a while ago. Regina is a little concerned to realize she has no idea how much time has passed since, but files that away for later. Anyway, she cuts her mom some slack. Partly because she’s far too tired to snap back wittily with the obvious, but also because of the second thing that surprises her. Her whole body is a dull ache, like a really bad bruise, but it is nothing compared to the sheer torture she faintly remembers from the last time she was awake. A part of her notes, distantly, that’s it’s probably because of whatever pain medication they’ve put her on. It would also explain why she kind of feels like she’s floating.

The floaty feeling creeps in further now that it’s been acknowledged. It overwhelms her for a second, until she realizes that she still hasn’t answered her mom’s question. 

“Hmmm,” she murmurs by way of reply. It’s noncommittal, but her mom seems to take it as a positive sign because Regina sees her shoulders relax.

“Well, that’s as expected… You’ve been out for almost two days,” her mom says, voice wavering. 

Ah. That answers that question. Now for the other.

“Why can’t I move my head?” she rasps.

“Oh!” Inexplicably, her mother looks a little flustered. “They had to use this”—she waves at the contraption that Regina is now suddenly aware of, digging into her shoulders—“to make sure you didn’t move your neck too much while it heals.”

She takes a moment to turn that over in her mind, sluggishly. “Hm. Okay.”

“The doctors will probably want to talk to you now that you’re up, but… Oh, it’s good to see you awake, Regina.” She sees her mom move as if to hug her, but think better of it at the last second, and reach to squeeze her hand instead. Regina squeezes back, wordlessly, and tries not to pass out immediately.

* * *

The doctors tell her she died for fifteen seconds that day. Like, literally, heartbeat-gone-breathing-stopped, dead. They also tell her that she was in a state of nearly-dead for thirty seconds afterwards. It’s remarkable that she woke up so quickly. It’s almost remarkable that she woke up at all.

There were a lot of cuts and scrapes, and a few major gashes running down her arm and left side. Some internal bleeding that had required surgery to treat. She had badly wrenched her back. The biggest concern now, they say, is that her spine was fractured. Prognosis says that she’ll live though, and eventually make a full recovery, which is… something.

It’s a lot to take in. Regina doesn’t really want to think about it as much as she wants to just sleep it all away. They soon leave her alone to rest. She’s grateful, because exhaustion is seeping and settling into her bones so deeply she’s starting to forget what it’s like to  _ not _ be constantly drained and sore. She drifts off within minutes.

* * *

Through a combination of drugs and fatigue, Regina spends most-but-not-all of her time in the hospital unconscious. She often finds it difficult to stay awake for more than fifteen minutes at a time. Her mom’s usually there, asking her how she feels, and if it’s not her mom it’ll be a nurse checking up on her, making sure she’s reacting well to her meds and that everything is in order.

Once, she stirs awake to find Gretchen and Karen hovering over her. Gretchen starts a little when Regina looks at her, before breaking into a watery smile. Karen is beaming. “See, I told you she’d be fine,” she says happily.

“Fine is a relative term,” Regina mumbles. “But yes. Hi.”

Gretchen looks a little nervous about it, but she reaches over to tentatively take Regina’s hand. Regina lets her, which seems to surprise her.

“What?” Regina remarks. “I won’t bite your head off. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

It’s kind of a mean thing to say, considering how she’s snapped at Gretchen in the past. Regina feels a little twinge when Gretchen flinches before nodding, but she can’t take it back now. It occurs to her a little too late that she could just apologize, but… Gretchen’s already talking by the time she realizes it.

“We were so worried, Regina,” she says. “I’m glad you’re alright. Well, as alright as you can be right now.” Karen nods in agreement and grabs Regina’s other hand.

Regina smiles for the first time in days. She’s touched that they’re even here at all, considering all that went down in the last few months. For now at least, they can just chat casually, all soft laughs and careful grins, about nothing important in particular. And yet it’s the most genuine things between them have felt in years.

They talk until Regina very nearly falls asleep mid-sentence, at which point Karen and Gretchen both get up to leave.

“Thank you for coming,” she manages, and they both pause. Regina can’t keep her eyes open anymore, but she feels a gentle touch to her right hand, and then another, before she finally sinks into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

Regina’s woken by the sound of someone shuffling around uncertainly. She has half a mind to pretend to stay asleep until they leave. Her mind is fuzzier than it’s been before, and she doesn’t really want to deal with human interaction in this state.

Curiosity wins out though, so she cracks an eye open to see the last person she expected to see.

“Hi,” Cady Heron says.

Regina blinks open both eyes. “Hi,” she replies carefully.

There’s a beat of silence between them before Cady finally speaks.

“Um… How are you?” she asks, and Regina is just so  _ tired _ of this question. Cady doesn’t know, a small voice at the back of her mind reminds her; she can’t understand that it’s exactly what her doctors and her mom have been asking her every time she wakes up, every single day without fail. She can’t understand that even though she’s several days on the path to recovery, it still feels like shit ninety percent of the time.

But her head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s not making her feel particularly forgiving. There’s a sea of rage and hurt directed towards the girl in front of her bubbling just under the surface of her thoughts, held barely at bay by the haze of her medications. Pity the bus couldn’t rob her of her recent memories, too.

Her mouth is moving before she quite knows what she’s saying. “I got hit by a fucking bus,” she says dreamily.

It’s a guilt-trip if she’s ever made one, and though it’s certainly not strictly Cady’s fault she got hit, she knows Cady will feel responsible, because that’s just the kind of person she is. She knows it will hurt her.

Cady says nothing for a long moment, a stricken look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she finally replies.

Typical. It makes her feel a little gratified, even though she knows she shouldn’t. What a bitch move, Regina.

All she has to say is a simple “It’s not your fault” to absolve Cady of her guilt. But she can’t do it. Part of her is holding onto the hurt like a dog with a bone, clutching it close in her teeth and refusing to let go. Why should she care how Cady feels, anyway?

Faced with a sullen wall of silence, Cady breaks easily. For a moment she opens her mouth as if to say something more. But the moment passes, and so Cady turns, quietly, and leaves. Regina’s left with a profound sense of hollowness and no idea how to fix it.

* * *

This is the first time she wakes up alone.

Her recuperation has been slow, but steady. Her back is stiff, and painful, but it’s not unbearable. The general aches are starting to fade, somewhat. Evidently, she’s stable enough now that people feel okay with leaving her alone for a bit.

She thinks someone was here recently, though. Maybe she’s starting to develop a sixth sense about that. Or maybe it’s the fact that there’s something on the table by her bed that wasn’t there before.

She raises her hand carefully to grab at the folded scrap of paper she sees near the edge of the table. Gingerly, she opens it to a sight that makes her stomach drop.

It’s not what’s written on it — a simple  _ get well soon _ — that nearly makes Regina’s heart stop again. It’s the messy scrawl it’s written in, painfully not-quite-familiar. There’s no name, but there doesn’t need to be. Regina knows it’s Janis who sent these particular flowers sitting on her bedside table.

Hydrangeas. They’re beautiful, and they’re still her favourite. She hates that Janis still remembers, after all this time.

First Cady and now Janis. Regina feels a sudden swell of emotion, of feelings she’s kept locked down for years finally crashing into her like a wave all at once. None of this had to happen. And yet, it almost seems like it was inevitable. It feels as if every single thing Regina has done since she was thirteen years old was to lead to the events of the last month. Fateful steps on the path to her horrible destiny. Dominoes, falling into place. She feels hot tears beginning to form in her eyes, and there’s nothing she can do to stop them from falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is from "Cut To The Feeling" by Carly Rae Jepsen.
> 
> this is a fic that’s been rattling around in my head and in a half-finished draft doc for like… two years now? born from the fact that i'm fascinated by regina/cady and there is a dearth of content for this pairing. i'm kinda hoping that posting will motivate me to finish this lol. hope you enjoy it, if you come along for the ride!


	2. spring fling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a shorter chapter this time, since most of this is just detailed in canon itself... more coming soon!

Regina is discharged from the hospital one full week after the accident, and ordered to stay on bedrest for at least another week longer.

It’s a relief to finally be back in her own bed. Even if she can’t really sink into it, because it’ll strain her back. She has to sleep propped up against her headboard, but at least it’s her own soft duvet gently pulled over her instead of the thin hospital sheets she’s slept in for the past week.

There comes a parade of acquaintances and followers and two-faced haters, all bringing her well-wishes and cheap flowers. Regina mostly pretends to be asleep through it all, occasionally wakes to greet those classmates with plastic smiles with an equally fake smile plastered on her own face. She’s not ignorant; it only took a little poking and prodding to get Gretchen to spill the details on how people are reacting to her accident, and she can’t say she’s surprised at the amount of people celebrating her downfall. She can’t say she feels no regret there, either. Maybe she _was_ a little harsh. Maybe it would do everyone good if she was a tiny bit nicer. And it’s weird to get a taste of her own medicine like this.

The only people she sees at home who she actually cares about are her mom, Gretchen, and Karen.

Cady doesn’t visit. Regina’s not sure if what she feels is disappointment or relief.

* * *

She gets better.

That’s just how it goes, right? She gets on her feet again, with the help of a physical therapist. She starts to put words to feelings, with the help of a regular therapist. Through it all the spinal halo is an unwavering constant, around her head, around her neck.

It’s not worth it to stay mad. Honestly, she almost starts to understand why they did it, once she considers it from their perspective. She’s kind of a mega-bitch, and she kind of ruined Janis Sarkisian’s life. She always did know that, but never did she have so much time to truly think about it.

Maybe she doesn’t have a right to be angry. At least not with Janis. Maybe, it’s Janis who deserves an apology from her. She knows she should let it all go. Let the pain and the anger go. It’s something she works on with her therapist, and she’s surprised to find how much more… at peace it makes her feel.

As for Cady, well. She can’t seem to stay mad at her for too long, somehow. She’s almost, _almost_ impressed that she and Janis even pulled this off. But then again, Regina’s always figured that Cady has a fire in her, underneath that bright, dorky demeanour. Ever since she first laid eyes on her.

She almost laughs at Janis’ luck. She might not have known it at first, but she sent a lion into the lion’s den. It’s the only reason her plan worked at all.

* * *

The weeks leading up to Spring Fling are a whirlwind. Regina keeps busy at home, thinking, healing, prepping. 

Her mother helps her into her dress the day of, careful not to jostle her spinal halo, and hands her her clutch afterwards. Regina takes her meds and waits.

The doorbell rings twice that night. Karen, then Gretchen. Her mom drives them all over to the school, and Regina George steps foot in North Shore High for the first time in weeks.

She expects attention, of course, but the hush that falls over the crowd of her classmates is intense, even for her.

Whatever, they’ll get over it. She more or less ignores them, and eventually everything returns to its usual buzz. Cady is nowhere to be seen, but Gretchen explains that she was banned from Spring Fling because of the Burn Book.

So she took the blame for all of it. Regina hadn’t expected that.

Coming face-to-face with the girl in question in the gym bathroom? Well, that she had expected even less.

Their conversation is awkward. Cady is still apologetic, and tentative, but Regina realizes even in her loopy haze that somewhere along the way, she’d somehow forgiven Cady Heron for what she’d done. Sure their talk is looser than it would’ve been without the pain meds dulling her sharp tongue somewhat, but she’s pretty sure that the sentiment is her own.

And then Cady — snuck-into-the-party, math-nerd-jungle-freak, brief-stint-as-Plastic, Cady — goes and wins Spring Fling Queen and makes a huge sappy speech and breaks apart that coveted tiara without a second thought. Regina finds herself amazed, rather than pissed. The night is just one surprise after another.

She doesn't remember much of the rest of Spring Fling, only flashes of moments. She remembers dancing stiffly, someone's gentle hands on her wrists, guiding her in a slow shuffle. She remembers squeezing in next to dozens of her classmates, the air warm and thrumming with energy as their photo was taken. She remembers feeling like she was floating above it all, there but not-quite-there. She remembers being more content than she’s been in a long, long time.


	3. shifting

Something about the food chain has changed, when Regina returns to school. Maybe it’s just that its existence is no longer quite so tangible.

She still draws attention like she used to, even without the other two Plastics glued to her side. That first day back, she just pushes her way through the throng and makes a beeline for her class, but it’s still impossible to fully ignore the stares burning in her wake, and then the sidelong glances from the kids seated around her.

It’s not quite the same, though. No one is yet brave enough to actually venture into a conversation with her, but there is less awe, less skittishness in the looks she gets. People openly gawk a little at Regina’s spinal halo and her limp and her sneakers with not an inch of heel on them and it gets annoying, sure, but she knows it ultimately shouldn’t be a bad thing, people losing a bit of their fear of her. They’re cautious, curious, like gazelles circling a wounded wildcat. Seeing concrete evidence that Regina George is not untouchable has that effect on their grade.

The air in the cafeteria is still apprehensive, the first time Regina steps inside it. Everyone is wary. No one knows quite what’s supposed to happen. Where will Regina George sit? 

Though, it’s not exactly difficult to make the decision to sit with Gretchen and Karen, when she spies them already seated at their usual table, because it’s the choice with the least potential to blow up in her face. There’s no telling whether their mutual friendliness in the days since the accident is meant to last, now that everything is continuing on in their new sort of _normal_ , but it’s a safer bet than any other.

She does notice Gretchen stiffen a little when she shuffles in across the table from her, feeling an unexpected pang in her heart at the sight. Still, she’s grateful that they don’t kick her out immediately, and hopes that her tight smile can adequately convey the sentiment.

When Cady Heron walks in, Regina understands her problem almost instantly.

She can see it in the way her eyes flick back and forth between their table and another table halfway across the cafeteria. At that table, Regina can see Janis’ very distinctive half-blond hair and the back of the patterned polo shirt of her friend, Damian.

Time seems to hang still for a moment, caught in the hesitation writ large across Cady’s face. Regina stops herself from calling out to her and watches as Cady makes a choice.

Finally, she decides to quickstep her way across to the other table.

Regina lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Well, that’s over with, it seems.

But it turns out that Cady isn’t exactly one to leave well enough alone. Because it is still awkward, that first week back, where Regina and Gretchen and Karen make quiet small talk and Regina catches Cady’s hastily-averted glances several times an hour. It’s a sort of peace for them all, but it’s strained, and it's not _great_. And apparently, it’s more awkward than Cady deigns to put up with.

On the Friday of that week, Cady marches up to the sort-of-Plastics table and says, “Hi.”

It’s Karen who pipes up first. “Hi Cady! We’ve missed having you here.”

“Oh, uh, I’ve missed having lunch with you guys too.” Cady blinks, looking a little taken aback. “Actually, that’s kind of why I’m here.”

She takes a deep breath before continuing. “Do you want to come sit with us?” It’s accompanied by a thumb in the general direction of where Regina knows Janis and Damian are sitting.

Gretchen gasps. She opens her mouth to say something, before she changes her mind and glances over at Regina.

“It’s fine, Gretchen,” she says softly. “But you also don’t have to wait for me to say that.”

Gretchen looks as if she’s about to argue, but thinks better of it and just nods, before grabbing her tray and standing up. Karen is quick to follow, a big grin on her face. Regina’s about to turn her attention back towards her food when she’s interrupted by that same voice again.

“You coming?” Cady asks her, and for the first time in this conversation she’s looking at her. _Really_ looking at her. And it makes Regina feel something she doesn’t quite understand.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She raises an eyebrow. Is Cady really going to go out of her way to do this? Shatter the delicate hierarchy of the cafeteria, just like that?

“I checked with Janis and Damian, and they’re okay with it. Well, they were slightly more enthusiastic about inviting Gretchen and Karen, but I wasn’t gonna leave you all alone out here. It’ll be okay. Janis will… try to be civil, as long as you promise to be on your best behaviour.”

Regina considers the situation very carefully. What she realizes is that Cady’s proposition might be the best way after all. It’ll be weird, no question about that. Regina has not spoken more than a few words to Janis Sarkisian in over three years. And to go so freely from Plastic Table to Art Freak Table will irrevocably alter North Shore High’s social spheres, beyond what has already changed. But maybe that’s not a bad thing. She saw the happiness in Karen’s eyes and the relief in the line of Gretchen’s shoulders when Cady came and invited them over, and she thinks that it might be worth it. Maybe it’s time to fix what she broke, anyway. 

“Okay,” she finally replies.

Cady breaks into a sunshine smile. She offers up a hand to help her up, and Regina takes it. Together, they make their way over to the table where the other four are already engaged in what looks like an animated conversation. 

“Thanks,” Regina mutters under her breath, just before they reach the others.

The girl beside her gives her a little nod in response, and her smile grows just a bit wider.


	4. tête-à-tête

Sitting together at lunch doesn’t immediately make everything less tense.

Janis and Damian take to Gretchen and Karen, at least, surprisingly quickly and surprisingly well. Within a few days, they’re talking together almost as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And of course, Cady holds them together strongly. She jumps easily in and out of conversation threads, laughs and jokes with all of them and does her damn best to _be friends_ with everyone.

Regina and Janis are still having trouble with that.

On the surface there’s nothing _wrong_ with their conversations. In fact, they’re both a lot more restrained and polite than anyone could’ve expected, probably. But the past still hangs over them like a storm cloud, heavy with old hurts and long-buried feelings implied in every interaction. It strains the air between them palpably.

Regina knows that she’s the one who has to break their uneasy stalemate, if they have any hope of actually becoming friends again. She has a lot to answer for, and she should at least take the pressure of addressing that off of Janis. And if there’s anything that Regina is pretty sure she still understands about Janis, it’s that she’s much too proud to bare her wounds in any way to the one who caused them. Even if there was a chance of finally getting a long-overdue apology.

So. That’s all to say, it’s Regina who makes the first move.

She learns from Damian that Janis often sticks around after school in the art room to work on her pieces. He also gives her a warning, when she mentions that she wants to talk to her.

“Janis is a fighter. But she’s not as tough as she wants you to think, sometimes.” Damian gives her a look that Regina knows basically amounts to _Just do not fuck this up._ “Just keep that in mind. Be careful.”

“I get it. Thank you, Damian,” she says, and she means it with complete sincerity.

When Regina makes her way to the art room, she takes a moment to stand in the doorway and steel herself for what’s to come. However this turns out, it won’t be an easy conversation.

One long, calming breath later, she steps inside.

Regina has literally never been in this room in all her three years at North Shore — she’s never had reason to — and so she takes a moment to observe her surroundings.

There’s numerous pots of paint scattered around on the desks, all different colours and sizes. A box of charcoals sits on the table by the door. A small stack of canvases is piled next to it. In the far corner, there are two sinks — one of which is filled with brushes — as well a drying rack half full of artwork. And in the middle of it all sits the girl she’s looking for.

The sight of Janis sitting on the floor, paintbrush in hand, a streak of purple cut high across her cheek, makes her words stick in her throat. Suddenly Regina is twelve years old again, watching her best friend paint poetry as she watches from over her shoulder. Janis has always been talented, even before the art therapy.

“Hey,” she finally manages, softly, what feels like an eternity later.

Janis starts, before looking up. Regina watches her face flick through several different emotions (surprise, annoyance, curiosity) before settling on something more neutral. “Hey,” she says coolly. After a moment’s hesitation, she stands, pulls up a stool, and gestures for Regina to sit. Which she does, leaning against a table, relieved to be taking the strain off her back a bit.

“I…” Regina begins. She is trying, but knowing what she has to do, even setting out to do it, it’s all different from actually being face-to-face with Janis and having to talk about it.

“That looks really good, Janis,” she finally says instead. It’s a deflection, but it’s true. Janis’ canvas is filled with dusty pinks and soft purples, warm splashes of orange. Abstract, but undeniably beautiful.

Janis’ brow furrows. She’s obviously thrown off by the comment. “Uh, thanks.”

She waits a long moment, clearly expecting the other girl to say more, but Regina is quiet, gaze focused entirely on Janis’ painting.

Eventually Janis goes back to work, tired of waiting for a response that never seems to be coming. They sit in silence, Janis concentrating on the strokes of her brush while Regina watches and gathers her thoughts. It’s almost companionable. But almost won’t quite cut it, and Regina knows that. Which is why she’s here in the first place.

“Janis.”

The girl pauses. Gently setting down her paintbrush, she moves to take a seat in the empty stool next to Regina and turns to face her head-on.

Regina inhales through her nose, lets it all out in a sigh, before she continues. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh,” Janis says in response, raising her eyebrows. “For what?”

It’s phrased like a question, but she can see the challenge in her stare. Does Regina understand what she’s apologizing for?

“These past few months, I’ve had a lot of time to think,” she begins, slowly, picking her words with care. “One of the things I’ve thought a lot about is… us, I suppose. What happened back in eighth grade. How it’s still haunting things now. I know it’s coming way too late, but I truly am sorry.

“People talked about us. The other girls whispered about you, came up to me and talked about how weird your obsession with me was. Even my dad, when he was still around. He warned me against getting too close to you. Like you were someone dangerous. And I _was_ scared, but not of you. I was scared of what this stuff all meant for _us_.” Frustrated, Regina runs a hand through her hair. “It was so stupid. I was so scared of the rumours ruining our relationship that I went and did it myself.”

Janis looks away and laughs, short and bitter. “You really did.”

“I know. I caved in to what everyone around me was telling me to be afraid of — what _they_ were afraid of — and convinced myself I was afraid of you, too. And everything spiralled completely out of control so fast, but I know I never should have let it happen in the first place. Even worse was when I let it keep happening, and let it get so bad you had to pull out of school. I could’ve said something. I should’ve defended you. But I was so focused on myself that I refused to even think of it. I’m so, so sorry, Janis.”

Janis is gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turn white. She’s staring down at the paint-flecked table silently. Regina has to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat before continuing.

“I know none of it justifies what I did. But that morning I asked you if you were a lesbian… There’s no moment that I regret more. And I know I’ve done a lot of things to regret, but none of those cost me the best friend I’ve ever had. So Janis, I understand if you’d rather never talk to me again but I just had to at least try to make this right. I have to keep trying, if you’ll let me.”

She watches as Janis takes in a shaky breath. She watches as she finally lifts her head to look at Regina. She's not quite crying, but her eyes are shining, overbright.

“Honestly, Regina, I don’t know if I can forgive you. I really don’t.” Janis' grip on the table has loosened only slightly.

"But,” she continues before Regina can feel her heart sink too far, “I do appreciate your apology. I didn’t think you had it in you, honestly. So I’m going to try. I don’t know how long it will take, or if it'll ever fully happen, but I’m willing to try.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she extends a hand. Regina shakes it tentatively.

“Thank you.”

Janis nods, before pulling her hand back and glancing around the room. “Well,” she says, kind of awkwardly, “I’m probably gonna clean up and head home now.”

“Need any help?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

Regina smiles at the subtle affirmation that their lunchtime situation isn’t going to come falling apart just yet. “See you.” She stands up, and is about to turn away before she remembers something.

“Oh, wait,” she says. "Thanks, by the way, for the flowers.”

Janis pauses, then waves a hand dismissively. She looks almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah. I was glad you weren’t dead, okay. I don’t want you to die, as it turns out.” She grimaces. “And, well. Using the new girl to enact revenge on you wasn’t the _nicest_ thing I’ve ever done. You were definitely an asshole, but I did let it get out of hand. I shouldn’t have pushed Cady on this path so hard. I am sorry about that.”

“Wasn’t any worse than many of the things I’ve done.” Regina hums, softly. “But thank you.”

Janis laughs, at that. A real laugh, not so sharp as before. “I’ll see you, Regina.”

“See ya.”

She turns before Janis can see her grin.


	5. one foot in front of the other

Summer comes along so much faster than anyone expects.

Regina isn’t exactly complaining. To her surprise, their little lunch group still talks often, even now that they’re not in the school cafeteria every day anymore. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised though. She’s taken a genuine liking to them all, and it seems everyone else generally feels the same.

They hang out a lot. Most often Regina’s with Gretchen and Karen, and sometimes Cady. Janis and Damian, she sees mostly in the context of movie night at Karen’s house, or lunch downtown. They’re not always all out together as one group, but they do have big get-togethers more than Regina might’ve predicted. She finds that she appreciates it.

Now that school’s out, it does mean that Regina sees a lot more of Aaron Samuels, though. Which makes sense — he and Cady are settling into a steady relationship, and he’s already used to hanging with the former-Plastics. Janis and Damian seem to like him fine, too, so when he tags along on their adventures, no one really even bats an eye.

It’s just… still weird. She’s sure Aaron feels just as weird about it too, if not even more so, with how she kind of broke his heart. Twice.

They’re cautious around each other. Regina knows she really should make things right with him, but he seems unwilling to really let his guard down yet, so she keeps her distance. 

Until the first party, three weeks into summer break, they hadn’t really said much more to each other than polite greetings and casual small talk.

It’s a party that Regina is hosting, the day after she finally gets her spinal halo removed. She’s still going to physio, and will be for months in the future, but it’s still a big deal and damn it, call her a newly-minted softie but the idea of commemorating the milestone with her friends makes her feel… happy. Imagine that. Junior-year Regina would never even have considered having a party with less than twenty people.

It’s definitely quieter than she’s used to, but it’s a surprisingly good time. They have a ridiculous amount of fun playing dumb party games (Cady’s suggestion, because she’s never played most of them before) and dancing to cringy middle school throwback pop songs (Damian’s), and Regina can’t stop herself from grinning at the good cheer taking over her living room.

Regina excuses herself from the room after they decide to watch a movie and then proceed to fight over the choices. Not particularly caring either way, she takes it as an opportunity to go refill her drink and stretch out her back in the kitchen.

She’s halfway through pouring when she hears footsteps coming towards her, and looks up to find Aaron standing in the doorway. He looks kind of awkward, but simply gestures to his empty beer can and heads over to the counter to grab another one.

Regina raises her eyebrows when he doesn’t immediately head back into the living room. But he just shrugs and says, “They’re still busy picking a movie. I’m cool with anything so figured I’d hang here for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.”

He cracks open his beer and takes a sip before turning a questioning look on her. “What about you?”

“Same as you,” she replies. She grimaces as she feels a pull in her back when she shifts position, and Aaron notices. Suddenly, an understanding look comes over his face. “Your back?”

“Fine, you caught me. It’s doing okay, but sometimes it gets a little stiff. I came to stretch it out.”

Aaron winces a little. “Sorry about the bus, Regina.”

“Not your fault.” Regina shakes her head firmly. “Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth she feels a change in the air, like the accidental implication has lowered the temperature of the room by a few degrees. Aaron’s jaw tightens and he nods stiffly. “Right. Glad you’re okay, though.”

“Thank you,” Regina murmurs, even though internally she’s cringing at her mistake. But when Aaron makes to head back into the living room, she surprises herself by actually saying, “Wait.”

He turns back to look at her, confused.

Oh boy. Regina doesn’t know if they’re ready for this conversation yet but it looks like it’s happening now anyway. Well, sooner rather than later it is. “I am sorry, though, Aaron. For something that _is_ my fault.”

He cocks an eyebrow. She takes a moment to collect herself, then keeps going. “I’m sorry for lying to you. For messing with your heart, for cheating, for all the shitty stuff I did when we were dating. 

“We… didn’t work out. And maybe we never would have, but I shouldn’t have blamed how I felt on you. I was unhappy, but I should’ve just talked to you instead of going behind your back to do stupid things that didn’t make me any happier anyway. I was obsessed with you as some kind of symbol of status, but you’re your own person, and honestly a much better person than me at that. You didn’t deserve any of that shit I did. I’m sorry.”

Aaron looks at her carefully. There’s a long, long moment of quiet while what she’s just said settles in.

Finally, he nods once, tentatively. “Thanks, Regina. That means a lot.” 

And that’s all he says right now, but Regina feels a weight on her heart ease up just a little. “I’m glad you’re happy, Aaron,” she adds. “You and Cady are really great together. I’m happy for you guys.”

He gives her an unexpectedly shy smile in return. “Thank you for inviting me today, Regina,” he says, eyes earnest and warmer than she’s seen in a long while.

“Thank you for coming.” She’s almost surprised to find just how much she means it.

From the sound of it, it seems like the others have finally managed to pick a movie. They head back into the living room together.

* * *

It gets better after that. Regina’s more or less begun to make peace with all of them in the group now, and everyone breathes a little easier for it.

Her recovery is going well. Her doctor tells her that her spine is pretty much fully healed. The exercises her physical therapist works with her on really help with the other stuff. She’s barely limping now, and her back flares up less and less every day.

Things are even going okay on the mental side of things. Therapy every Thursday afternoon helps her manage her anger, the vindictiveness that had been so stubbornly prevalent in everything about her just a few short months ago. It’s exhausting, having to pick apart her past self, delve into her own psyche to try to talk through why she did all those terrible things she did. But she knows it’s the only way to move beyond it, to make sure she never becomes that again. Regina kind of likes who she is now. She can’t believe she’s saying this, but being nice has actually made her feel better.

The bus incident is a whole other piece to work through.

The hurt, the rage, the overwhelming sense of betrayal she felt in those moments before she got hit were like nothing she had ever felt before. Never had she been so utterly blind to what was manifesting right under her nose. Regina has always prided herself on her ability to read people, to know exactly what’s needed to make them do what she wants them to do. Even now, though she knows better than to manipulate people without a care, she still likes to think that she understands what makes them tick. It’d been a shock to have that ripped away from her. 

Not to mention the trauma of the accident itself. Regina still finds herself on edge around crosswalks and parking lots, and there’s sometimes an inexplicable prickling at the back of her neck at the rumble of large engines, but that right there has been progress nonetheless. She still remembers the first time she saw a school bus pass by after she got hit and the sudden, crushing terror that had seized her heart at the sight. And she knows now that Cady, and even Janis and Damian, wouldn’t fuck with her like that again.

But sometimes, sometimes, she has nightmares still, about Cady’s sweet smile twisting into a sneer, her laugh exploding into a cackle, and it's Janis’ cruel words but they spill out of Cady Heron’s mouth _(I tricked you with those Kalteen bars I turned your friends against you we thought it’d be fun to ruin your life and oh how fun it really was)_ until Regina snaps awake, soaked in sweat and panting.

And sometimes, it’s just a little too much for her to bear. Sometimes it leaves her aching for some comfort she doesn’t quite understand. But really, there’s nothing to do then but to sit up and tell herself, over and over, that it was just a dream. It’s always just a dream.

There are good days, there are bad days, there are really goddamn awful days, but Regina is starting to understand that it’s all part of the process. It’s just how these things go.

* * *

Then things get a little complicated.


	6. summer light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello... i know it has been a While since i last updated this. sorry for the wait! i've been swamped with school and i had no brainspace for like anything creative unfortunately. but the semester is over now, so i'm hoping to get some editing/writing done this winter break. hopefully there will be less of a wait for the next chapters! for now, i hope you enjoy this!

It sort of all starts after a particular sleepover, about a month into summer.

It’s just Karen, Regina, and Cady over at Gretchen’s house. It’s been a while since they’ve had one of these. Not since before everything went to shit after Halloween. In a way, it’s kind of Cady’s first sleepover with them — no pretenses, no deceptions, no secret revenge plan. This time, she’s there for real.

They have more fun than they’d ever had before, now that the four of them can honestly say that they’re friends. They spend their time lounging around and watching movies and talking late into the night. No more obsessing over their reflections in the mirror, picking apart every physical flaw. No more biting remarks and backhanded compliments and undercurrent of tension running through every conversation. The atmosphere’s a lot more relaxed now, a lot sillier. Regina lets herself enjoy hanging out with her friends, and for once, she lets it be the only thing on her mind.

It’s around three in the morning when they change into pajamas and settle in on Gretchen's giant couch, blankets pulled loosely around them. Cady’s in the middle of telling a story about an unfortunate encounter she once had with a herd of gazelles, when all of a sudden, a light snoring fills the room.

Karen has fallen asleep, clinging to Gretchen like a koala.

“I didn’t think it was  _ that  _ boring,” Cady jokes, chuckling. “But I guess we can start getting ready for bed, if you guys want.”

Gretchen shoots them a mildly distressed look. “...I don’t think I’m going to be able to move from this couch,” she says.

Right on cue, Karen stirs in her sleep, tightening her grip on Gretchen, which makes Gretchen squeak in surprise. “So I guess we’re sleeping here! You guys are free to use the guest bedroom though.”

Regina nods, but can’t help but smirk at the predicament Gretchen has found herself in. “Good night, guys,” she whispers.

Together, she and Cady haul a few blankets to the bedroom next door. Like pretty much everything in Gretchen’s house, the bed is huge. There’s more than enough room for both of them, so they settle in quickly and pull them blankets over themselves. Regina lets out a sigh as she shifts around a little, trying to find an agreeable position.

“Is your back still bothering you?” Cady asks softly, which makes Regina start. She turns her head to find Cady looking back at her in the semi-darkness.

“It just takes me a bit to get comfortable sometimes.”

“Alright.” Cady gives her a nod before she’s overcome by a huge yawn. “Ah,” she murmurs, closing her eyes. “Good night, Regina.”

Regina smiles, even as her eyelids grow heavy. “Good night.”

* * *

Then she finds herself sitting in an empty classroom. The lights are off and the curtains are drawn shut, which leaves the room unnervingly dim.

That’s weird enough. Even weirder is the fact that, as she looks around, she finds every single desk around her is completely bare. Even the teacher’s. The chalkboard is wiped clean, the bookshelves are empty. There’s absolutely no indication that this room has ever been in use.

Completely lost, she looks up at the clock. It’s ten-fifteen in the morning. Class should  _ definitely _ still be going on. So why is it like a freaking ghost town in here?

As if summoned by the thought, she suddenly hears footsteps coming down the hall. There’s a click and a twist of the doorknob, and Cady opens the classroom door.

She sighs in relief. “Oh good, you’re here too. What the hell is going on?”

Cady gives her a funny look, like maybe Regina’s lost her mind. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why is there literally no one else here? Is it a weekend, or something?”

Cady breaks into a laugh. “Regina, no one’s used this classroom for years. The real question is, what are  _ you _ doing here?”

Her brow furrows when she realizes that actually, she has no memory of coming here. She has no idea why she’s in this room. And how would Cady even know that about North Shore…? 

“I… I don’t know,” she says hesitantly.

“Well, you should probably get to your actual class, silly,” Cady says, smiling. “And so should I.”

“Right…”

She figures it might be easier not to question any of this. Not until she can investigate what exactly is happening. “I’ll see you at lunch, then.”

Something else strange happens then. Cady’s smile falters a little, a cracking facade, except somehow it reveals nothing about what’s underneath. “Right,” she says cheerily nonetheless. It’s jarring. “I’ll see you!”

Then she slings her backpack off her shoulder, reaches inside to grab something. “Wait, here’s a snack before I go. Wouldn’t want you to get hungry.” 

Cady hands over a granola bar, which Regina accepts with bafflement. Before she can say anything else, Cady is out the door.

“Cady!” she calls after her, standing up from her seat and peering out into the hall. But somehow, Cady is already nowhere to be seen.

Finally, she looks down at the bar in her hand.

It’s not a granola bar. It’s a Kalteen bar.

And suddenly a wave of dread washes over her, spurring her into motion. She hurries down the disturbingly-empty hall, turning corner after corner, blind instinct guiding her steps until she finds herself outside in the blazing sun.

Shading her eyes from the glare, she discovers that she’s in the school parking lot. Cady is standing about ten feet ahead, her back turned to her.

“Cady, what the fuck is happening?” she yells as she hastily makes her way over to the other girl.

Slowly, Cady turns around. Her expression is inscrutable. She looks her up and down, twice.

Finally, she says simply, “Sometimes, we get what’s coming to us.”

It makes her heart stop and her breath catch in her throat. She watches as Cady’s gaze flicks upwards, to look past her at something over her shoulder. She watches as her lips curl into a small smile. She watches as Cady Heron turns away without another word.

She whirls around just in time to see the school bus bearing down on her.

* * *

Regina wakes with a panicked gasp. 

Hopelessly disoriented and unadjusted to the dark of her room, she shoots a hand out to the side to fumble for the lamp on her bedside table. 

Except this is not her bed and this is not her room and oh right, she’s at Gretchen’s house. It’s four-thirty in the morning, according to the digital clock that  _ is _ on the table.

Okay. That’s okay. She manages to force herself to take three long, deep breaths before they dissolve into hiccuping sobs and Regina claps a hand over her mouth a heartbeat too late because she had also forgotten, for a moment, that she isn’t alone.

And now Cady is already stirring, blinking the sleep from her eyes. As soon as she regains her senses she focuses in on the girl beside her, leans over to grab her shoulder. “Whoa, hey, what happened?”

Regina tenses, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact. She can’t bear to see the concern on Cady’s face that she knows must be there. “Nothing,” she mumbles. “Nothing happened.”

She feels a hand on her cheek, soft but persistent in turning her head to meet Cady’s gaze. “Regina, you’re crying,” she says, soft and matter-of-fact. “What’s wrong?”

Regina sucks in another breath, trying desperately to calm her hammering heartbeat. Seeing knowing  _ feeling _ Cady right there beside her, warm and so very very real, helps quell the fear dream-Cady induced. When she finally feels her heart slow, returning to normal, she responds. “It was just a bad dream. Don’t worry.”

Cady frowns, entirely unconvinced and clearly still very worried. In the silence that follows, Regina turns back to face the ceiling, eyes closed, pinches the bridge of her nose and breathes again, slow and shaky. In, and out. She does it five times before she feels a gentle hand grab her wrist and guide it away from her face.

When she opens her eyes and looks back to her side, Cady’s face is hovering inches from hers.

“Was it…” She trails off, hesitates. “Was it about the accident?”

As much as Regina doesn’t want to admit that, she’s sure the expression on her face confirms what Cady’s already figured out. So she nods, shortly.

“Does it— do you get nightmares about that a lot?”

“Sometimes,” she concedes, “I do. About all the other shit too, but the bus… Yeah. The bus is always there.” 

She almost regrets saying the first part at the flash of guilt on Cady’s face. She doesn’t want to make her feel bad about it. Really. It’s all in the past now, it doesn’t matter.

But obviously it still matters to some part of Regina. Somehow, the fears are still there.

Regina’s sure Cady’s opening her mouth to apologize again (she still does that too much, damn it Cady) so she braces for it and gets her reply ready in her head. She’s caught off-guard when Cady says, “It’ll be okay,” instead.

“You’ll be okay,” she affirms. “It’ll get better, and we’ll be here for you, Regina. No matter what your mind tries to tell you.  _ I’ll _ be here for you.”

Regina’s at a complete loss for words.

She just sort of… stares at Cady for a solid ten seconds, not sure what to say. Cady looks back at her so calmly, patiently, that gentle smile of hers sending warmth flooding through Regina’s chest. She can feel tears forming in her eyes again, but for a completely different reason. “Thank you,” she finally manages, as she goes to wipe them away as subtly as possible and completely failing.

The other girl laughs softly. “Aw, get over here, Regina.”

And before she knows it, Cady’s reached out and wrapped her arms around Regina and pulled her close to her chest. Regina stiffens for just a moment before she sighs and allows herself to relax into Cady, nestling her head on her shoulder. 

“Hmm,” she mumbles into the soft fabric of Cady’s shirt. “Good night, Cady.”

“Good night, Regina,” she hums in return, the smile in her voice clear as day.

* * *

It’s the sudden loss of the warmth against her side that makes Regina stir awake.

“Wha,” she mutters, bleary-eyed and sleepy still. 

Cady, who’s just sat up in bed, freezes. 

“Sorry,” she says, wincing. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Mmm.” 

The sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating half of Cady’s face and setting her hair alight, makes it clear that it’s well into the morning, but Regina decides that five more minutes is most definitely in the schedule for today. Absentmindedly, she reaches out to pull a confused Cady back towards her so that she can tug her down and wrap her arms around her waist. “Don’t go.”

“...Okay.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Cady pats her head, a little awkwardly, and slides her other arm over Regina’s back. They lay there like that for a while in the quiet of the room. Part of Regina notes, distantly, that Cady is a very comfortable pillow, and also that her hair smells nice.

“Oh, uh, thanks?”

Aw, shit. Did she say that out loud?

“Oops,” she mumbles.

Cady seems to have kind of figured that this is apparently just how sleepy morning-Regina is, so she just lets out a soft snort in response.

“Hey guys!” 

The sudden voice makes both of them jolt a little. It’s Karen, pushing open the guest bedroom door. “Gretchen made breakfast, if you guys want to— oh!”

At that Regina’s eyes snap open and she scrambles to push herself into a sitting position, but it’s too late. Karen is grinning. “Aw, Regina! I didn’t know you liked cuddling.”

She glares daggers at her, even as she feels her cheeks heat up slightly. “I don’t! Well— Maybe… sometimes. Depends. Ugh.”

“Whatever you say…” Karen giggles brightly, waving over her shoulder as she heads back out of their room.

Regina lets out a long sigh.

“I’ll be honest,” Cady remarks then, startling Regina a little. “I never took you for much of a cuddler, either.”

“Shut up,” she growls, shoving Cady lightly. “Don’t think anything of it.”

“Sure, sure.” Cady just shrugs her shoulders and grins. Insufferably.

Regina whacks her with a pillow.

* * *

_ Thanks again, _ Regina texts, after she finally heads home that day.

_ No worries!! <3  _ is the response she gets less than a minute later. She can’t help but smile.

* * *

It’s not until later that the nagging little  _ something _ about it all hits her.

Everything’s basically still the same. But it’s like her world has shifted by just a few small degrees — not enough to be of deep concern, but enough that she  _ notices _ .

She certainly notices when she’s out the next day. She’s with Janis, Damian, Cady, and Aaron, and they’re stopping by the mall food court for lunch. Aaron and Cady are sharing a milkshake together, and laughing softly every time their straws bump into each other.

“Please, there are children present,” Damian says mildly, though there are actually approximately zero in their general vicinity. (Kind of surprising!)

Cady, bless her heart, still looks a little sheepish as she laughs. “Sorry.”

“Get a room, you guys,” Janis groans, though she says so with a smile on her face.

“You two are really cute,” Regina chimes in, with just enough of a lilt to her voice to sound sarcastic, though her sincerity is plain in her eyes. But she feels an odd pang as soon as she says it and she’s not sure why. Because it’s true — Aaron and Cady are disgustingly adorable and honestly, really, really good for each other. Regina is very glad for them.

Aaron looks understandably surprised at her comment, and she can’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. She teases him relentlessly about it for the next five minutes while Cady pretends to be exasperated with her, and Janis and Damian look like they’re deeply regretting being here. And to think, only a few months ago — no one ever would have thought this could be possible. Having lunch with Aaron Samuels and his girlfriend on one side of her, Janis Sarkisian and Damian Hubbard on the other. And having  _ fun _ with them, at that. What a wild world it really is.

And yet.

Something about the sleepover really fucked with her. Like, perplexingly so.

Lately, she can’t look at Cady sometimes without her heart fluttering weirdly. She keeps thinking about how safe and protected she’d felt in Cady’s arms, how warm she’d been.

How much she misses that feeling.

It’s not like dating Aaron means they see less of Cady. She still makes plenty of time for them all, and Aaron’s basically a member of the gang at this point too. Both of them are very much around. So why does she feel so strange about them being together?

None of it makes sense, really. But she’s had years of practice with avoiding feelings she doesn’t understand, so she puts all that strange stuff in a box at the back of her mind to deal with later.

For now, she’s determined to enjoy her last summer of high school to its fullest extent.


End file.
